Deconstructing Disability: Exhibited Work Information

Voyeurism II. 2024. Video.

This video shows a red circular shape with a lighter central area. Within the central area is another red circle. The shape continually rotates.

In today's society, individuals who are neurodivergent, such as those who are gifted or autistic, are often viewed negatively. Consequently, many of us who are different try to find ways to mask or hide our uniqueness to fit in and avoid being ostracized. This desire to conform is similar to the way women sometimes tolerate being objectified by men to meet society's expectations. The pressure to conform to societal norms can be overwhelming in both cases.

Voyeurism II raises important questions about the representation of the female body in art exhibitions and museums. The piece brings attention to the tendency of male artists to depict women's bodies through a male perspective, known as the "male gaze." This video showcases resin and plastic sculptures of imperfect breasts and standardized bodies and videos + music created from brain waves of women under stress, converted to sound. This approach calls into question the validity of justifications for depicting nudity as natural, beautiful, and traditional. It prompts viewers to consider the objectification and subordination of women that can arise from these depictions.

Keratosis Follicularis. 2023. Archival inkjet print, laser engraved mirrors, maple wood frames. 17”x48” overall.

The piece is comprised of three, square frames painted pink. The left piece is a mirror that is engraved with the artist's skin cells. The reflective surface is distorted and makes it difficult for the viewer to see themself within it. The mirror on the right is engraved with the definition of the artist's chronic genetic skin condition from a medical textbook. In between, there is a photographic print where 16 images form a grid to symbolize the amount of years the artist has lived with the condition. Each photograph that forms the grid is a close-up image of the skin condition on various parts of the human body. The piece is installed in a corner in the formation of a bathroom vanity, allowing for many individuals to have to go up closely and examine the artist's condition.

A Helping Hand. 2024. Paint on paper. 11” x 14”.

This is piece is a painting on paper in a white fame. The image is comprised of two hands reaching toward each other from opposite corners. The hand reaching down from the upper left is painted in shades of blue with smooth metallic silver paint. The hand reaching upward from the lower right is painted in red with gold accents and has a rough, sandy texture. There is an "aura" of yellow/green paint around each of the hands.

I use my art to deal with my disability. It is a form of therapy to me. It is also my way of bringing awareness to chronic pain disorders and my disability Amplified Musculoskeletal Pain Syndrome. This syndrome is usually found in children, but I am one of the few adults who was diagnosed with it. It is also usually caused by sports injuries, but I am an art kid and always have been. This pain sprung up in Fall 2019 and it has introduced me to the disability community. Belonging to this community has inspired me to use my art for good whether that is expressing how this pain feels or teaching others about this disability.

Selected Poems. 2003 - 2024. Slideshow.

This piece is a selection of 8 poems played on a flat-screen monitor. The text is white on a black background. Each poem remains on screen for approximately 3 minutes. A packet of 25 poems is available for reading on a podium nearby.

Belonging to the disabled community profoundly shapes artistic expression by fostering unique perspectives on resilience, identity, and societal norms. Artists draw from personal experiences of navigating a world designed for the able-bodied, infusing their work with themes of accessibility, empowerment, and inclusivity. This perspective challenges conventional aesthetics, offering fresh narratives that highlight diversity and advocate for broader representation. The community's shared experiences create a rich tapestry of creativity, emphasizing the beauty in different abilities and the strength found in overcoming adversity.

Tiffany Erin McDonnell's poetry collection draws deeply from her lived experiences with fibromyalgia, celiac disease, anxiety, depression, and recovery from an eating disorder and alcoholism. Her work explores themes of resilience, identity, and the quest for self-acceptance through raw physical and emotional pain. By navigating these personal challenges, Tiffany’s poetry highlights the beauty of different abilities and the strength found in overcoming adversity. Her unique perspective as a disabled individual shapes her artistic expression, emphasizing accessibility, empowerment, and inclusivity, while challenging societal norms and conventional aesthetics. Each poem is a testament to the diverse, resilient spirit of the disabled community. The following pieces were created from 2003 to present day.

Oblivious-Sided. 2024. Acrylic paint and transferred ink on wood. 24” x 24”.

It is a painting with comic-style imagery, with flat, solid colors and black outlines. The background is beige, with rows of text faded under the beige paint. A ¼ inch black line borders the painting surface. Three horizontal lines are located in the upper third, from the left edge to ⅔ across the surface. Two puffy clouds intersect the lines on the left side. To the right of the lines is a white splatter form with three white teardrop-shaped drips above and one below. The word “splat!“ in red letters is located above the lines and splatter. To the right of the splatter is a gray fedora hat with two c-shaped movement lines above it. A set of four c-shaped action lines are located in the middle and three in the lower left of the painting. In the lower right third is a white cane with a red strip at the bottom and movement lines above and below.

Throughout history, blindness has been perceived as absolute, and lack of sight equated to lack of ability. From religious scriptures to contemporary media, the blind and visually impaired community has been portrayed as con-artists, sinners, and helpless buffoons. Unsubstantiated representation is compounded by countless ways in which words like blind, see, and sight are employed in figurative language insults as synonyms for ignorance and obliviousness. As someone living with progressive vision loss, the true barriers I face are the social constructs engrained in American culture. My work engages with the experience of both losing sight and gaining insight into a world where ignorance and obliviousness are as “blind” as faith.

Self-Portrait. 2023. Colored pencil. 9”x12”.

This piece is a portrait of the artist made with colored pencil. The figure is wearing glasses and a red top. The figure’s face and arms are blue, and their eyelids are green. The background is orange. At the bottom of the piece the artist has written the phrase, "I AM CAPABLE OF SO MUCH MORE THAN I THINK I AM."

I am Eliana Nardelli and I have mosaic Down Syndrome. But I don’t want others to think that’s the only part of me or think I can’t do certain things.  I believe I have artistic talent. I’ve been creating since I was young, because I am a visual learner. My disability impacts how I learn and process information. Visuals and observing help me to learn. What I draw or paint reflects what I dream of doing and how I feel in the moment. It allows me to express my emotions and passions. Looking at my artwork can help you learn more about me.

Someone Once Told Me, “You Can See Yourself Clearest in the Dark”. 2024. Cyanotype on cotton bedsheets, driftwood, thread, rope, hardware.

This hanging sculpture is comprised of a long piece of driftwood that is suspended from the ceiling using rope, pullies, and wall anchors. 22 threads hang from the driftwood. Attached to the threads are several square and rectangle pieces of cotton fabric that have been used to make photographic images called cyanotypes, which known for their blue color. Each cyanotype is a photograph of an interior bedroom space.

My artistic practice developed alongside my chronic pain. When I first started to experience the disabling effects of my chronic illnesses, I turned to photography as a tool to discern and decipher the complexity of my condition.

The isolation I felt was mirrored in support groups of other women who had similar difficulties finding support from medical institutions. Without the shared lived experiences of other disabled people, I wouldn't have learned about endometriosis and hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and where to find help. My work and my story break down the barriers of shame and disbelief surrounding women's pain.

Inspired by Janine Antoni’s 1993 performance, Slumber, this installation is site-specific and hangs from an 84” piece of driftwood suspended from the ceiling. A visual representation of my sleep disorders of chronic fatigue, sleep apnea, and insomnia, during October 2019. Using a 4x5 f/256 pinhole camera I made long exposures of me sleeping and the details of my bedroom. The photographs are then contact printed repeatedly with cyanotype onto cotton bedsheets. Each strand represents one night of sleep and each 4x5 contact print represents one hour of sleep.

Gothic Women Series. 2024. Gouache, ink and charcoal. 13” x 18”.

This painting is a portrait of woman looking over her right shoulder. She is painted using black and white paint, ink, and charcoal. She has long hair and wears a black hat with a star and two moons on the brim.

In the world of being neurodivergent, we see the world differently than others. Seeing or thinking things many other people may not be able to do. In my art I am able to express myself and my interests in a way I can’t while speaking with others, since at times I struggle expressing myself to others verbally. Due to our minds also running nonstop we neurodivergent people tend to have many unusual visual ideas that pop into our minds, the ideas may be relevant to our lives or are hyper fixations. Being neurodivergent may affect my day-to-day life but it doesn't stop my creative process.

Left: Disability v. Resource Depletion. 2022. Acrylic on canvas.
Right: Disability v. Pollution. 2022. Acrylic on canvas.

The painting on the left is of a wheelchair on top of a hill of green and brown swirls against a backdrop of blue/gray. The wheelchair is painted to look as though it is made from newspapers, a pizza box, and other recycled items.

The painting on the right is made with tints and shades of the colors pink and purple. A figure stands in the center of the painting appearing to exhale. The figure's lungs are painted large and exposed, and swirls of dark color surround them. The background sky is painted dark with areas of white and pink clouds.

I have never lived a day in a “normal” body. When I was younger, I just wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted my peers to see me as more than my differences, as someone worth more than the nicknames they called me behind my back.  

As I got older, I realized that I was always worth more than the ways this world treats me. The only spaces where I feel like I truly belong are when I am in community, with other disabled people or allies who understand that we are human too.

Climate change is no longer a distant threat, but an imminent part of our culture. As temperatures rise, diseases spread, our air becomes more polluted, and resources continue to deplete, our society is being called upon by our planet to create equitable and sustainable change.

The disabled community is the lost voice within social movements; as the rest of society moves forward, we get trapped in a world that still fails to consider our needs. “Disability v. Climate Change” is a body of work that aims to address the ways the climate change movement has overlooked our needs and perspectives.

(Breathe) Catamenial Pneumothorax. 2024. Mixed media.

This piece is interactive. Viewers are encouraged to use the hanging syringe to gently inflate and deflate the left lung so they can see how the lung collapses, and that only one side can receive air.

This framed piece is made from several types of material including paint, cardboard, felt, and paper. It is a depiction of a pair of lungs. The right lung is small and red and covered in flowers made from paper and felt. The left lung is also red but is much larger and is under a ribcage made of cardboard. It is also covered in flowers made from paper and felt. From the frame hangs a clear plastic tube and a plastic syringe. This piece is interactive. Viewers are encouraged to use the hanging syringe to gently inflate and deflate the left lung so they can see how it collapses, and only one side can receive the air.

Being a part of the disabled community shapes my artistic expression because I feel like it is what sets me apart from everyone else. I draw, paint, dance, and sing through the pain. I find comfort in expressive arts rather than medicine.

Left: Masking, Unmasking (43 Months). 2023
Photographic print. 8”x10”.
Right: Bathtime (Marat Had it All Figured Out). 2023. Photographic print. 8”x10”.

The photograph on the left is a black and white portrait of the artist. They are wearing a baseball hat and a mask covering their nose and mouth, as well as a patterned button-up shirt.

The right photograph is another portrait of the artist. They are sitting in a bathtub while wearing a cap and holding a phone. Their arm hangs out of the bathtub, and they are staring off into the distance. The tub and walls are made of tile.

I took these two photographs as part of my 2023 fall semester Photography Lab I course. Bathtime is an homage to Jacques-Louis David’s The Death of Marat. I deal with chronic pain to the point where even lying down gets uncomfortable. Sometimes I spend hours floating in the bathtub, and I often think of Marat. Masking, Unmasking focuses on the effects the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic has had on me. I continue to wear a mask while inside any building that is not my home as much as I can; the years I spent in the solitude of quarantine allowed me to discover my neurodivergence and start to remove the ‘mask’ I had created for myself over nearly two decades of social conditioning.